Carpathian 21 - Dark Peril

looked up at him. “I can’t even breathe.”

    He laughed softly, the sound filling her with unexpected joy. She hadn’t known joy. She hadn’t known a man could be like Dominic.

    “Then I will breathe for you.”

    He probably would, too. She picked up an orange, too awed by him to wonder where he got it. “I’m so afraid of disappointing you. I’m not very good at relationships. Ask my cousin. She only puts up with me because we’re related.”

    “She puts up with you because she loves you,” he corrected, and took the orange from her trembling hands to peel it himself.

    12

    You reveal me. Then you heal me
    Of all the scars and strife.
    And when my life was spinning downward,
    You caught me.
    I’d forgotten how to smile, but
    You re-taught me.

    SOLANGE TO DOMINIC

    S olange tried to slow her breathing, knowing he was watching her closely. She cleared her throat and tried to sound calm. “I don’t think I’ve spent this much time with another person in years.”

    Minan —my own . The words were a soft, gentle whisper in her mind. Aloud, in his calm tone, he added,
    “Neither have I.” He didn’t hand her the peeled orange, but instead took a section and held it to her lips.
    “We make this journey together.”

    Everything in Solange settled. Her mind calmed and she found she could breathe. She simply had to match the basic rhythm of his lungs. In and out. It wasn’t really that difficult. They were in this together, for better or worse. He didn’t seem to mind that she floundered with her words, that she had no idea what she was doing. He seemed to accept her with all of her failings.

    She opened her mouth and accepted the cool fruit. It was bursting with flavor. The orange was one of her favorites and difficult to get. She knew he had created it especially for her. He seemed thoughtful that way, finding the things she loved the most in some little corner of her mind and providing them for her. She ran her hand over the exquisite robe. She could see her silky skin, smooth in spite of the small white scars, those little dots she’d always detested and hidden, revealed now as if they didn’t matter. A little subconsciously, she rubbed at them through the lacy material.

    “When the candlelight plays over the dots, they look as if they are alive, dancing their way up your thigh. It is a highly erotic sight, Solange, and makes me want to follow them with my tongue. I will taste every inch of you, and those delightful dots lead the way to the feast.”

    She blushed again. There was no way to control the sweeping color so she opened her mouth as he slipped another orange slice against her lips. His words had once again called her attention to her body, to the way she looked, her voluptuous curves emphasized by the stretchy lace of her robe. The scattered stars did nothing to hide the swell of her breasts or her flared hips. She squirmed a little, wishing her chair was more in the shadows as his was. She crossed her legs.

    “I would prefer you were open to me.”

    His voice was so soft. It was no command, just a simple statement. She hadn’t meant to close herself off to him . . . She glanced up at his face. God, but he was beautiful. “Wouldn’t you prefer I was a little modest?”
    Which, when one thought about it, was hilarious. Cats were not modest as a rule. When she shifted, she was nude. That was all there was to it, yet this seemed so different.

    “I would hope the woman is for me alone and that you are comfortable enough—and trust me enough—to take delight in your sexuality. You are naturally passionate and sensual. I love to look at you, to see you wanting me. When I feel your eyes moving over my body, and when I can look so openly on what is mine, it gives me great pleasure.”

    It sounded so simple, but it took great effort on her part to uncross her legs to give him the view of a wanton, needy woman. She couldn’t help but feel sexy and a little wicked, but it was still one of the most difficult things she’d done. Worse, it sent another rush of heat that glistened between her legs. He inhaled, drawing the scent of her arousal into his lungs.

    Solange knew her reaction to his request was only encouraging him in drawing her out of her shell—and she was a little afraid of where that might lead. That simple smile of appreciation, for her, was the greatest praise he could give her. It was shocking how satisfying it was to please him, when she’d never sought to